


Strip Down to Our Feelings

by sweetrevelation



Category: Scrubs (TV)
Genre: Bonding over being sad, M/M, Unrequited Love, but not a lot, like a little bit, sexy but not excessively explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-22 12:24:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15581940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetrevelation/pseuds/sweetrevelation
Summary: JD didn’t cry, even when he wanted to. He could tear up on occasion, sure, but full-on sobbing? It happened so rarely he wasn’t sure of the last time it did. Today, he was grateful he couldn’t cry.





	Strip Down to Our Feelings

**Author's Note:**

> Been thinkin a lot about how we never really see JD full-on cry on the show. Any lines that I don’t remember that reference him crying are being ignored because I do what I want. Title from “Cry” by Carly Rae Jepsen. Also this is the smuttiest thing I've ever posted and it's like barely explicit and I'm still here clutching my pearls

JD didn’t cry, even when he wanted to. He could tear up on occasion, sure, but full-on sobbing? It happened so rarely he wasn’t sure of the last time it did.

 

This surprised a lot of people. Anyone who knew JD would agree that he’s the wear-your-heart-on-your-sleeve type. If he was happy, you were sure to hear about it. Anger had a tendency to make him lash out. But sadness was something that just stayed bundled up inside, whether he wanted it to or not. He sometimes wondered if his brain was properly tied to his tear ducts. In difficult times, he often wished he could cry more easily, just for the release.

 

Today, he was grateful he couldn’t cry.

 

He couldn’t just start bawling in the middle of his best friend’s wedding, not when it would be clear that the tears were of despair and not joy. Right up until the wedding, he’d held onto some tiny hope that Turk would come to his senses. The ceremony came and went without a hitch, and the reception was winding down. Turk and Carla had already left for the honeymoon.

 

He found solace in the only other person he knew wouldn’t be happy about the wedding. Dr. Cox, whose inability to get over Carla had cost him Jordan, had been steadily putting away glasses of scotch all night. Though they’d barely spoken, and JD had never told anyone just how deep his affection for the groom ran, he got the feeling the comfort was mutual. His gaze was met every time he looked at the other man’s table.

 

Which is why JD wasn’t as surprised as he could have been when Dr. Cox plopped down next to him at the otherwise empty table.

 

“How you holding up?”

 

JD blinked. He hadn’t expected to be spoken to.

 

Dr. Cox snorted and took a sip from his glass. “With being so in love with the groom and all?” he continued.

 

“As if I haven’t heard that one before,” JD muttered. He took a sip from his own drink, a beer he’d been offered before he’d gotten a chance to say no, and grimaced.

 

“I’m serious,” Dr. Cox said, rolling his eyes. “Here I thought we had an unspoken conversation thing going.”

 

JD stared at him for a few seconds before caving. “I’m okay, I guess,” he sighed. “You?”

 

Dr. Cox shrugged. “Honestly… I wouldn’t exactly say I have feelings for her anymore,” he admitted. “It’s just the ‘what-if,’ you know?”

 

“Yeah,” JD said, still eyeing Dr. Cox suspiciously. “I know exactly what you mean.”

 

Dr. Cox seemed to be avoiding his gaze. “You better make the most of this, kiddo. I don't have the energy for scary Dr. Cox tonight, so you’re off the hook.”

 

"All right." JD looked down, picking at the tablecloth. “How do I get over him?” he asked quietly, not even caring how pathetic he sounded.

 

“How long have you been in love with him?” Dr. Cox said to his scotch glass. He almost sounded sympathetic, but JD was sure he was imagining it. In any case, JD didn’t answer—he didn’t quite know how. He’d never really considered his feelings for Turk as something that spanned a length of time. There was no before-and-after, no point where at one moment he didn’t love him, and at the next moment he did. Falling in love with Turk had been synonymous with meeting him.

 

Dr. Cox nodded in understanding. “That long,” he said under his breath. “Normally I’d tell you to go for a rebound or twenty, but having had a front-row seat to your various failures, I think I’m gonna have to hold back that recommendation.”

 

“You’re one to talk,” JD accused with no real venom. “At least I have some variety. You always screw up the same way. Because you can’t get over someone.”

 

Dr. Cox finally glared at JD, but there was little impact in his eyes. “Fair enough,” he said flatly. “But I’d be willing to bet the budget of this wedding—though it can’t be all that much—that way deep down, you’re fucking up for the same goddamn reason.”

 

JD shrank back. “Maybe,” he said quietly. “So how do we fix it?”

 

“Well,” Dr. Cox started, staring into his now-empty glass, “despite my _very_ best efforts, alcohol doesn’t offer any practical solutions.”

 

JD managed a chuckle. “I don’t think alcohol is really meant for practical solutions.”

 

“Sure as hell helps,” Dr. Cox commented, leaning back in his chair as JD watched him carefully.

 

“Are we having a conversation?” JD blurted after a long moment.

 

Dr. Cox rolled his eyes. “Well, geez, Newbie, don’t call attention to it like that. I haven’t had enough to make me forget this happened tomorrow.”

 

“Sorry,” JD said, a little amused. “I just wanted to make sure.”

 

“We should probably get out of here,” Dr. Cox said, almost absentmindedly. “They’re packing up chairs.”

 

JD froze as he tried to figure out just what kind of _we_ he was referring to— _we, together_ , should leave? Or just that _both of us_ should go?

 

“Kid?” Dr. Cox said slowly. “You finally kill that last pesky brain cell?”

 

“Right, right,” JD said quickly. “We could share a cab, if you wanted to.”

 

Dr. Cox was quiet for a moment. “It’s not even one,” he pointed out. “We could hit a bar. I’ll even pretend to listen to your feelings if you’re buying.”

 

“I don’t know,” JD sighed. “I don’t want to go somewhere with… people.”

 

“Lucky for us, my apartment practically has a full bar,” Dr. Cox said as he stood. He was much less shaky than JD knew he would be if _he’d_ had that many drinks.

 

“Wh-what, really?” JD stammered. “Did you get possessed tonight? Seriously.”

 

Dr. Cox crossed his arms. “Once-in-a-lifetime offer, Newbie. Take it or leave it.”

 

So that was how JD ended up at Dr. Cox’s apartment. He sat gingerly on the couch without letting his back touch the cushions, the way you do with a stranger’s furniture.

 

The cab ride had been nearly silent, but not awkward. The conversation had turned into little more than small talk when they’d gotten to Dr. Cox’s living room, where their suit jackets hung on the back of a chair. He’d explained the significance of the old black-and-white football game that now played muted on some late-night sports channel, though they both knew JD understood little of it.

 

Dr. Cox was still talking about how the Something-or-Others had gone on to win the Superbowl that year, and JD managed to tune out his words while still listening to his voice. He knew he was sobering up, and so was Dr. Cox—both their glasses sat abandoned on the coffee table. What happened to drinking away their troubles, he wondered?

 

It took a moment for JD to realize that Dr. Cox had stopped talking and was now looking at him curiously. He shook himself out of his mind, and furrowed his brow in a silent question.

 

“You know, I’ve never seen you cry,” Dr. Cox told him. “Like, _really_ cry. You’ve lost plenty of patients. You were at a wedding where you were in love with the groom. Why the hell is it that I hear wa- _hay_ more than I want to about every other feeling that marches its way through your little heart but I’ve never been treated to a nice water feature?”

 

JD shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve always been like that. I just… don’t really cry, I guess. Even when I want to.”

 

An unidentifiable emotion crossed Dr. Cox’s face. “So it’s really not significant, then,” he said slowly, “that I’ve never made you cry.”

 

_You’ve made my_ soul _cry_ , JD wanted to say, but he figured that would make things worse. “Really not significant,” he echoed.

 

“Have I made you _want_ to cry?” Dr. Cox asked, still with that expression that JD couldn’t figure out.

 

JD’s eyes narrowed. “What is this? Some kind of weird power thing?”

 

Dr. Cox shrugged. “Just want to know.”

 

“Why?” JD pressed. “And why do you always… if you think it’s gonna make me cry?”

 

“Every day I think, _today it’s gonna be too much for him_ ,” Dr. Cox said, staring straight ahead. “Something I say is gonna be the last straw and you’re gonna pack up your bags and say sayonara. And you’ll be following some other attending around who doesn’t make you feel like shit.”

 

“You don’t make me feel like shit,” JD said quietly. It was true. Working with Dr. Cox made him feel special. He knew he was his favorite. He’d come to think of the daily ribbing as almost affectionate, and whether that analysis was correct or not, he knew he was at least important to the other man.

 

Dr. Cox sighed. “Well, damn it. You let me know when you come to your senses.”

 

“Do you _want_ me to leave you?” JD asked confusedly.

 

“Jesus, kid,” Dr. Cox said with a breathy laugh. “Talk like that, someone might think Gandhi’s not the one you’d like to shack up with.”

 

And then it dawned on JD that Dr. Cox was in love with him.

 

He averted his gaze, staring at the fuzzy little football players running from one end of the field to the other. This, this realization… it made so much more sense than it really _should_. He’d always thought Dr. Cox had his emotional wires plugged in wrong somewhere, switching love and hate and God knows what else, and he was abruptly realizing just to what degree he received more torment than anyone else at Sacred Heart.

 

And JD—he’d never really thought about it. Okay, one dream. Two. But he honest-to-goodness had been too busy pining over Turk to really consider any relationship besides the ones that fell into his lap. Much less with the boss who called him names and yelled at him all day. The boss with the toned abs and the sharp wit and the unexpectedly kind eyes…

 

When he tore his gaze from the TV screen, he was almost surprised to see that the room looked exactly the same as before. The weight of his epiphany seemed like it should have knocked the moon out of orbit. The football game should have been interrupted with a breaking news bulletin, with a well-groomed reporter reading the headline _John Dorian Realizes Perry Cox is in Love with Him_. The President should have made an announcement, assuring citizens that American life would remain largely unchanged despite this groundbreaking incident.

 

But his eyes were greeted with the same walls and the same furniture and the same man just a foot and a half away from him, apparently unaware of the complete shattering and rebuilding of JD’s world.

 

His eyes finally landed on Perry’s face. He was steadfastly concentrating on the game, perhaps having realized he’d said a little too much. JD shook down his brain for the perfect line, but he was coming up blank. _I love you_. Too strong, and he wasn’t even sure it was true. _Fuck me_. Too strong again, and probably the wrong direction. _Kiss me_. That was better, but how would he respond?

 

JD settled on another tactic. With his heart threatening to beat its way right out of his chest, he turned to face his target more directly. Perry didn’t appear to notice. JD hesitated before reaching out a hand, gently turning Perry’s face so their eyes could meet.

 

“What are you doing?” Perry asked. His voice was devoid of emotion, filled with neither hope nor disgust.

 

“Tell me to stop,” JD whispered. Perry didn’t.

 

Even as their lips met, JD was reserved. Despite his epiphany, despite the apparent lack of rejection, you can never be sure, right? Even as Perry reciprocated, JD couldn’t shake the feeling that he was about to be kicked out.

 

JD swallowed as he pulled back to see the results of his bold strategy. Perry seemed more than a little confused, but not on the verge of a furious rant, so JD counted that as a win.

 

“What was that?” Perry asked, seeming as though he’d chosen each of the three words very carefully.

 

“I…” JD’s head was still spinning too much to fully explain what was happening in his mind. “Negative times a negative equals a positive?”

 

Perry shook his head. “You’re an idiot,” he breathed before kissing JD in earnest. JD couldn’t help the squeak of surprise that escaped.

 

“Really, you’re an idiot,” Perry continued, muffled, as he hungrily kissed down JD’s neck. “Do you have _any_ clue… how bad an idea this is?”

 

JD pushed Perry off of him and swung a leg over his lap. There, straddling him, he took Perry’s face into his hands and told him something he’d always wanted to.

 

“Shut _up_ ,” he said exasperatedly.

 

Perry’s eyebrows raised at the sudden change in power, but he didn’t protest. “Yes, sir,” he muttered under his breath as he began working to free JD from his shirt, sacrificing a few buttons in the process.

 

“You could’ve tried this before,” JD informed Perry as he undid his tie, tossing it to the floor.

 

“I’ll keep that in mind when I invent the time machine,” Perry snorted, finally pulling JD’s shirt off of his arms. “Do these things really need that many buttons?”

 

JD grinned as he swiftly started unbuttoning Perry, being more respectful of the fabric. “ _Please_ invent a time machine just to have sex with me.”

 

Perry was a bit disgruntled that JD could unbutton a shirt faster than him, but he let it go. “Is that what we’re doing?” he said nonchalantly.

 

“Um.” JD paused with his hands on Perry’s now-bare chest. “Isn’t it?”

 

“Just making sure,” Perry said as he pulled JD’s arms around his neck and stood up. JD’s limbs locked around him in surprise.

 

“How—how did you do that?”

 

Perry rolled his eyes as he carried JD to the bedroom. “I lift weights that are heavier than you.”

 

JD let out an _oof_ when Perry dropped him on the bed. He ran his hands over Perry’s arms, delighted he was finally to see them up close. Perry, still standing at the edge of the bed, took the opportunity to unbuckle JD’s belt.

 

“You’re _really_ hot,” JD remarked as he lifted his hips, letting Perry pull his pants off. “You could be, like, a model, or—” He cut himself off with a surprised whimper as Perry stuck a hand inside his boxers.

 

“Yeah, I could,” Perry agreed, kissing along JD’s collarbone. “I’m pretty good-looking.”

 

“No—no fair,” JD complained breathlessly. “Get your stupid pants off.”

 

Perry chuckled and let JD go. He unbuckled his belt as he straightened up, and pulled his slacks and underwear off together. JD slid his own boxers off to match.

 

Looking at Perry, who had clearly been anticipating this for a while, JD was struck by a wave of anxiety. “You know, it’s—it’s been a while, I’ve been in a bit of a dry spell, so you can’t expect—” JD stopped short as Perry climbed over him, and the anxiety was replaced by an almost overwhelming sense of trust. He threw his arms around Perry, kissing him so hard he felt like he would leave bruises with every movement.

 

They had to admit that the foreplay was a little rushed in their mutual haste to just _do it_ already, but the main event seemed to last as long as the rest was short. JD felt like he was laying there with his legs around Perry, feeling him inside, short-circuiting JD’s central nervous system, for eternity. It could last the lifespan of another universe and it wouldn’t be enough.

 

In truth, it wasn’t all that long before they finally finished, collapsing into each other in a mess of sweat and hitched breaths. JD started giggling as soon as he got his bearings.

 

“What’s so funny?” Perry asked, mystified.

 

“Still think that was a bad idea?” JD teased. “Don’t tell me that wasn’t, like, the best ever.”

 

Perry rolled his eyes and pulled JD to his chest. “Definitely still a bad idea. A good one, though.”

 

***

 

JD shot out of sleep, sitting upright in the vaguely familiar bedroom. He glanced at Perry beside him, beginning to stir, and felt a rising panic.

 

_BADIDEABADIDEABADIDEA—_

 

He got out of bed as quickly as possible without disturbing the blankets too much, and hastily pulled on his boxers from the foot of the bed. He found his pants flung over a lamp, but he remembered with despair his shirt was all the way in the living room.

 

“Newbie?” Perry muttered, rubbing his eyes. “What’re you doing, ‘s like seven.”

 

JD whipped around in shock. “We can just pretend this never happened,” he said quickly, but not convincingly.

 

Perry sat up slowly, still trying to process being awake. “Kid…”

 

“You were right,” JD said hopelessly. “Stupid, stupid. We should just forget about this…”

 

Perry sighed with exasperation. “Newbie—”

 

JD kept up his babble as if Perry hadn’t spoken. “I mean, what would people say? Are we even allowed to do this, technically? I don’t even—”

 

“ _JD._ ”

 

JD froze. It had been years, literally, since he had heard those two letters come out of Perry’s mouth in that order.

 

Perry pinched the bridge of his nose. “If you don’t get back here in the next five seconds and let me sleep off the rest of this hangover, so help me God, I will never do that thing you said you liked _again_.”

 

JD kept his underwear on, but he walked out of his dress pants as he obediently returned to bed. He silently ran his hands through Perry’s hair. Looking at him this way, the same way, but this time with morning sun in his curls, JD felt more peaceful than he had in far too long.

 

JD didn't cry, even when he wanted to. Perry made it his mission to make sure he would never want to again.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, please consider giving it a reblog! [[Link](https://carlysrae.tumblr.com/post/176675774324/)]


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